The crimson sun sank behind the jagged cliffs of Kaizen Valley, casting elongated shadows that twisted like restless spirits. The valley was eerily silent, save for the faint hiss of wind slipping through shattered rocks and the distant caw of crows. The remnants of Kurozane's scattered troops lay strewn across the cliffs, their dark uniforms singed and torn. The battlefield bore the scars of Chapter 13's clash, but Naku Hizusuki knew the true fight was only beginning.
He stood at the precipice, Hizakura gripped tightly in his hands. Every fiber of his body screamed in fatigue, muscles aching from the previous encounter, yet his mind remained razor-sharp. The memories of his parents' death, the bitter taste of revenge, and the countless grueling days under Buddha Mong surged through him, binding his will to a single purpose: justice, tempered by skill.
"The Raven of Ruin… finally," Naku murmured under his breath, eyes scanning the mist.
From the swirling fog emerged the figure of Kurozane, tall and imposing, his black armor glinting with a dark, unnatural sheen. Shadow tendrils writhed around him like serpents, twisting and stretching as though testing the air, anticipating the strike of the one who dared oppose him. The man's presence alone bent the atmosphere, chilling the valley with a suffocating sense of malice.
"You've come, little shadow," Kurozane hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "The stories of your skills have reached even the deepest corners of darkness. Let us see if you are as formidable as they say."
Naku's gaze hardened. "I am no tale, Kurozane. I live for justice."
Steel met shadow as the battle erupted. Kurozane struck first, a sweeping horizontal slash that could have cleaved through boulders. Naku rolled under the strike, the gust ripping through his clothing and hair, and countered with a rapid upward slash at Kurozane's thigh. Sparks erupted as Hizakura collided with jagged steel, the impact reverberating through the cliffs like distant thunder.
"You've grown… impressively," Kurozane said, stepping back, studying Naku. "But fire alone cannot pierce shadow."
Before Naku could react, shadow tendrils shot out like living whips, fast enough to tear the air. His instincts screamed. He recalled Buddha Mong's teachings: "Observe, anticipate, and strike where your enemy's heart falters." Closing his eyes briefly, Naku read Kurozane's subtle rhythm—the tiny favoring of his right arm, the micro-pause before each slash—and acted.
A precise strike found the joint beneath Kurozane's knee. The Raven of Ruin staggered, his dark aura flickering in a way that exposed vulnerability. Naku didn't pause; he pressed forward, flowing with the momentum of both blade and instinct.
"You fight… admirably. But can you endure the shadows beyond your sight?" Kurozane hissed, vanishing into the swirling darkness. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared high above Naku, descending like a black meteor.
Time slowed. Memories of his training and past battles flashed before Naku's eyes: the grueling drills under Buddha Mong, the nights spent sharpening his body and mind, the faces of his parents burned into his memory. With a calm exhale, he let Hizakura guide him.
He sidestepped the falling strike with fluid grace, his movements a seamless extension of years of training. In one flowing motion, he slashed diagonally across Kurozane's chest. The dark tendrils collapsed, dissipating into the mist. For the first time, the Raven of Ruin's face betrayed something other than malice—fear, faint but undeniable.
Naku's chest heaved, his gaze fixed on the fallen figure. "I am not just fire. I am not just shadow. I am the storm that follows them. I am Naku Hizusuki."
Kurozane sank to one knee, clutching his wound, blood seeping between the cracks of his black armor. "You… you have grown beyond the whispers… But this is not the end. Darker forces… lie ahead."
Naku sheathed Hizakura, scanning the cliffs around him. Faint figures loomed in the distance, hidden observers watching silently—enemies or allies, he could not yet tell. His victory was complete, yet fleeting. Kaizen Valley had tested him, forced him to confront both shadow and fire, but the path forward promised storms far fiercer than this.
The wind whispered through the valley, carrying both the scent of ash and the promise of new trials. Naku's gaze hardened. He was no longer a boy defined by loss; he was a warrior tempered by pain, ready to face the world on his own terms.
As the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, Naku's shadow stretched across the valley floor—a lone figure standing between the remnants of darkness and the challenges yet to come. The journey was far from over.